


Requiem In Three Parts

by ShadowMeowth



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Multi, Not Beta Read, The Final Days, The Great Sundering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26777407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowMeowth/pseuds/ShadowMeowth
Summary: A requiem sung for a star once whole. Three souls, bound by fate, caught up in the course of events. The time has come to face consequences, leave nothing unsaid, and pave the way for a new dawn.
Relationships: Azem & Hythlodaeus (Final Fantasy XIV), Azem & Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch & Hythlodaeus, Azem/Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch, Hythlodaeus & Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Hythlodaeus/OC, Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Kudos: 5





	Requiem In Three Parts

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Blergh. Yes, in the end I decided to say, "screw it", and get this out of my head. So here it is. Well, the first part of it anyway. I have divided it in three chapters of sorts.
> 
> The story focuses, of course, in Azem, Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus. I will be using mostly my Ancient!WoL's name, Nike, for Azem, for this is my personal take on how it all went down. I took a few licenses here and there... but I think they are largely justified.
> 
> And you will be seeing quite a number of OC's. Which is to say, my alters' Ancient selves, which were all former Akadaemia classmates of our dearest power friend trio. Only one of them is truly relevant here, in a sense, so it should pose no issue for the story to make sense.

The horror that greeted her upon her return to Amaurot was something she knew she would never forget, no matter how many millennia passed or lives she would live.

She had struggled to get there, dodging falling meteors, debris, corpses, and people fleeing the calamity in terror. Whenever the Terminus abominations got in her way, she swiftly dispatched them with both her aetherial blade and magicks.

Crossing the city had been nothing short of an odyssey. But as soon as her feet reached the tiles of Achora Heights, which offered a privileged view —as it were— of Amaurot aflame, there was suddenly some sort of shuddering in the air and the ground, like a growing murmur, made her stop in her tracks.

She briefly closed her eyes in resignation. The preparations had begun, then. Now she could only hope for the best… and make sure the ritual was not interrupted.

She descended to the floor level and arrived to the Polyleritae District and ran through the devastated streets, inwardly surprised to have even been able to recognize the quarter amidst such destruction; the metropolis’ heart seemed nothing but a pile of rubble and collapsed towers. Its avenues were lined with lifeless bodies. The Terminus monsters had gleefully preyed on everything around there, undoubtedly.

She forced herself not to dwell on it. If she had returned to Amaurot, it was for a reason.

Two, to be more specific. She prayed to the star for the safety of those she had come for.

Not because the Terminus monsters did not try to crush her hopes, as she found out once she got to the Bureau of the Architects’ gates when she ran into a hideous beast ramming into the battered building. She was about to plunge into it but someone beat her to it when they cast a spell powerful enough to cause a violent lightning-aspected explosion that disintegrated the monster and raised a dense dust cloud.

But that did not prevent her from recognizing the newcomer’s soul. Her perception was not as sharp as that of her friends’, but she could note the deep blue and orange gradation, akin to a sunset, that immediately instilled trust and warmth. She sighed in relief.

“Hythlodaeus”, she said walking towards him, and she dispelled the smoke with a wave of her hand. “Are you alright?”

“Considering the current circumstances, I am alive, so I cannot complain”, the Chief of the Bureau of the Architect replied with his never-leaving smile. His right arm was slightly glowing, a sign that he had his aetherial shield ready to deploy in case of need. “'Tis good to see you, my friend.”

“You don’t look very surprised.”

“There is nothing much to be surprised about”, Hythlodaeus chuckled. “I knew you would return sooner of later. It is not in your nature leaving us to our fate, O most honorable Azem.”

She looked away, irritated and moved in equal measure. She was well aware that her friend was both voicing his faith in her and the futility of her defection for all practical purposes. Hythlodaeus was a master of flattery through teasing and vice versa.

“I’m not Azem anymore”, she replied nonetheless. “I have no right to keep using the Fourteenth’s name.”

“Your mask says otherwise”, Hythlodaeus pointed out, and his smile widened when she unwillingly raised two fingers to her black mask, the Wanderer’s brand, “but whatever you say, Nike.”

She shook her head but did not answer. It was not the time, not when more Terminus monsters appeared around them through swirling darkness. The aether’s murmur grew louder as it gathered in the air, and Nike wondered if those abominations sensed that if everything went according to what the Convocation of Fourteen —well, they were Thirteen at the time— planned, their reign of terror would soon come to an end.

But for this to happen, they had to protect the Convocation until the deed was done.

As she tried to quell the guilt assailing her when she thought of her former colleagues, that she should have been by their side in those poignant moments, Nike unleashed her aetherial blade against the monsters.

“Come on! We cannot let them get near the Capitol!”

Hythlodaeus followed suit, aetherial shield held high to cover her rear. Generally he was the one who, through their countless adventures, took point to protect his friends, but fortunately he was a very adaptable fighter thanks to his insatiable curiosity to try new things. A fundamental trait to lead the Bureau of the Architect.

“They won’t as long as the Bureau stands. With some help from the Wardens I have erected a barrier around the Capitol’s perimeter”, Hythlodaeus explained, never losing his mischievous smile, unfazed as he blocked a slash from a Terminus stalker’s claw and cast a lightning bolt against it, turning the creature to ash; the element of lightning was one of his specialties, after all. “And before you give me more credit than it is due, most of it goes to the combined theses of Alexios, Hypate and Amphion. You do remember them, do you? I only made the necessary adjustments for the ward to work.”

“My memory is not bad enough for not remembering our former classmates”, Nike played along; after graduating from Akadaemia Anyder they had all gone their separate ways, but they did not lost contact and, indeed, in the course of her role as Azem, she had called upon their aid from time to time. “But if I recall correctly, those theses established that there must be a keypoint from which the barrier expands, right? Then, that would mean…”

“If the Bureau of the Architect falls, the ward does as well”, Hythlodaeus turned around to face the next monster, nonchalantly bashing his aetherial shield into a Terminus shredder’s face as he did, leaving it stunned for Nike to finish it off. “Thus it falls to us protecting the Convocation from a grisly death and the world from being consumed. But be at ease, my friend. Everything is under control.”

Nike snorted, equally exasperated and amused as she sank her aetherial blade into the shredder’s body.

“I’ve been told countless times that I laugh in the face of danger, but your case is infinitely worse. How can you keep jesting in this situation?”

“If the tragic fate of a cruel death awaits me”, Hythlodaeus dramatically declared, “I would rather welcome it with the best of my smiles. I shall leave this world as I lived, without a shred of anguish or regret in my heart. And because denying the Terminus dominion over me is none short of satisfying, to be fair.”

Hythlodaeus in his purest form. Well, no surprise at that stage. The Chief of the Bureau of the Architect had always said and done everything he wanted the way he wanted. Throughout her travels around the world, Nike never met anyone as honest as her old friend. Perhaps it was his innate sincerity that led to him being the first candidate on the Convocation’s list for becoming the next Emet-Selch, and there was no doubt that Hythlodaeus would have honored the epithet of Angel of Truth. But he was a free spirit, and a seat in the Convocation carried a series of responsibilities that for someone like him would have been naught but gilded chains. In that point, it was undeniable that the second candidate, to whom Hythlodaeus basically yielded the honor, had been a much more sensible choice. And of course, there was his extraordinary gift besides. Not mandatory for holding the seat, but certainly helpful.

This train of thought made Nike feel a harsh lump in her throat, and she looked up at the Capitol. _‘I should be by your side’_ , she thought with bated breath. _‘By everyone’s side. But… I lack the resolve to do what you’re about to do.’_

The last remaining monster, a Terminus flesher, bellowed in rage and began to charge up that insidious, sinister energy in order to blast it against the Bureau of the Architect’s walls, taking advantage of Nike’s distraction.

“Oh, don’t even bother”, Hythlodaeus stepped in, encasing the monster in a huge chunk of ice with a wave of his hand. “You shall not lay a single, dirty paw on my bureau as long as I’m in charge of it.”

For such cases, it was fortunate that Hythlodaeus’ other specialty was the element of ice, because it was not the first time he used the very same trick to cool their foes’ spirit, so to speak. Nike took the chance to unleash her aetherial blade against the frozen flesher, smashing the ice shard to pieces alongside the monster.

She looked around as she tried to catch her breath after the scuffle. Apparently, no more monsters were inclined to follow suit, for now at least.

“I think that was the last one.”

“Aye, that it seems. And for good reason”, Hythlodaeus looked up at the sky, covered by clouds aglow with the reddish light of the starshower. “They have already begun.”

Nike took a few moments to process what her friend said. She lacked the acuity of his aura vision, the sharpest that probably currently existed in the world and in many generations, but now that the battle was over she could feel the air charged with more and more aether, akin to static.

The summoning had started in earnest.

Once again, guilt assailed her heart. In that moment, the third gear of her life was taking the greatest of risks and a burden no one should be forced to carry. And she had left him alone. Because she was not strong enough.

“We must go to them!”, she turned around about to sprint towards the Capitol, but then Hythlodaeus firmly held her by her arm.

“No.”

“Let me go!”, Nike protested as she struggled to break free, but her friend did not give in. “Do you intend to stand idly by while he’s pouring out everything he has to save us?! We should be by his side! I refuse to leave him alone!”

“He’s not alone. The Convocation is there as well. They have their role to play, and we have ours. And the world’s survival depends on both sides doing our part.”

“Don’t you dare play the role card with me, Hythlodaeus! When exactly roles and protocol have even mattered a whit to us when it came to support each other?!”

“Not once, and you know well my opinion on following the script others write”, Hythlodaeus looked at her with surprising seriousness, which was quite unusual for him. “But you left the Convocation because you couldn’t bear the thought of so many people laying their lives down, even if it was in the name of salvation. You know what you will find if you proceed to the Capitol now. For what did you defect, then, if you go there only to see what you cannot prevent?”

That brought Nike’s struggling to a halt. Hythlodaeus was not appealing to her sense of responsibility nor her altruism, but to a very simple fact: if she went to the Convocation during the summoning, then her actions would have been in vain, and to top it she would have to bear the burden of not having been able to save the lives that were to be lost. The small, white-robed figure of Elidibus came to her mind, and Nike clenched her fists. The young Emissary’s sacrifice was precisely what triggered her defection. Was she going to spit on his memory by depriving it of any meaning? That was what Hythlodaeus wanted her to realize.

And she was well aware that even though he seemed to not have a care in the world, in truth his thoughts were with their mutual, remaining friend. They were three. They had always been three.

But for Nike, the situation was even worse, and Hythlodaeus knew it.

_“The Sun and the Twins watch over the souls in eternal harmony. The Sun shepherds the lost in the land, the Twins in the currents of the Underworld. There is no deeper bond between the stars than theirs.”_

How true, that old saying.

“Come”, Hythlodaeus told Nike, conveying all the calm and tranquility he could in her, given the circumstances. “We can only wait for it all to end, one way or another. The best we can do to help them is making sure the ward does not waver.”

After a few moments, she nodded. They hurried back to the Bureau of the Architect; with a wave of his hand, Hythlodaeus opened the gates, and they both rushed into the hall.

“Chief!”, a female voice echoed through the room just after the gates closed behind them, and when they turned around, they saw two women coming to them at a brisk pace. Nike recognized them; they had both been former classmates as well who after their graduation began working in the Bureau of the Architect. “We were starting to fear the worst had come to you! Pray don’t go out there without even telling us ever again!”

“Now, now, it was not _that_ terrible”, Hythlodaeus smiled to reassure both women. “Besides, Nike arrived just in time to lend me a hand, so do not worry that much about my safety, Calypso. As if we needed more things to worry about, don’t you think?”

Calypso Myrine, Hythlodaeus’ personal assistant, crossed her arms with a resigned sigh before greeting Nike with a nod to which she responded in the same manner. Although everyone in the Bureau of the Architect knew of their chief’s antics, it was hard to blame them for their exasperation.

“How are things going?”, Hythlodaeus went on as casually as if he were asking about the weather. “Besides apocalyptically bad, I mean.”

Eirene Laodoce, the Bureau’s aetherochemistry expert and lead safety supervisor, was the one who answered.

“The ward’s keypoint is working fine, we’ve got Hypate and Amphion upstairs keeping it stable. The Wardens are stationed around the perimeter and for now they’ve managed to repel the Terminus monsters, but the question is for how long they will be able to hold the line…”

“Everything depends on the time it takes for the Convocation to conclude the summoning”, Calypso added, shaking her head. “They have the best sorcerers and phantomologists helping them to shape it, but we all knew we would have to work with a theoretical model from the very beginning.”

“I see”, Hythlodaeus said, and after a long pause, he asked in a voice quieter than usual, “… What about Aethra?”

“No news on that front, Chief. We have no idea of what’s going on inside the perimeter. At least we do know that not a single monster has crossed the ward since we raised it.”

Hythlodaeus nodded thoughtfully, but he did not ask anything else. Not that it was truly necessary; Nike guessed that Aethra Alitheia, the woman her friend had asked about and who had also been a former classmate and a battle companion at times, was part of the Convocation’s support team. There were not many sorcerers as powerful as she was in Amaurot and probably the world.

But that was not why Hythlodaeus asked after her, and everyone present knew, more or less. The Chief of the Bureau of the Architect had always been extremely discreet when it came to his personal life. It was practically an open secret that he had been involved with Aethra for a long time, but no details had ever transcended. Not even his two closest friends could say they knew much more.

Nike lowered her gaze in anguish. Hers was not the exact same situation, but she felt also on edge about what might be happening beyond the perimeter. Her heart went out to Elidibus. To her former Convocation colleagues. And to her dearest friend.

She remembered her predecessor’s words during her training years to become Azem, the Wanderer. Words that, until her defection, she had not given due importance.

_“It matters not how far our travels take us, for how long we walk the land. When you grow weary of wandering, you shall know where to return. Azem’s home and respite will always be wherever Emet-Selch is. And when the time for a new day comes, the Angel of Truth is the one who leads the Wanderer to their final rest in the Underworld, into the night before the dawn in which a new sun shall rise. This is how it has always been and will be forevermore.”_

She bit her lower lip, feeling lost. She was Azem no longer, but in the dying gasp of the star she _had_ returned to Amaurot… or had she truly returned to Emet-Selch before the coming apocalypse? And if so, what would be the point of her survival if he were not by her side?

She had never paused to consider such scenarios. Not really. They had always been together, long before they became Azem and Emet-Selch. Since the day three youths met on a bench at the Bureau of the Secretariat to submit their application for higher studies at Akadaemia Anyder. She had taken for granted that it would always be that way, except for the day she would yield her seat to her chosen successor.

But now… something felt broken. The Convocation’s perfect harmony collapsed with her defection. All because of the tragedy and loss that the Sound and the Final Days wrought.

“Now”, Hythlodaeus said then, halting the course of her thoughts, “we can only wait.”

* * *

And so they waited.

They waited for a while that seemed like an eternity, even though it probably was not that long. Hythlodaeus had taken an improvised seat behind the counters to discuss any possible news with Calypso and Eirene. During that time, Hypate Augea and Amphion Ireyas came down to the hall; they both were, too, former classmates and from what Nike gathered, they were on the upper floors supervising the barrier’s keypoint, though they did not work for the Bureau of the Architect but they were researchers of Anamnesis Anyder, the center of pure concepts’ study. They had sealed the bureau’s gates with a spell, but it did not look like the Terminus monsters were keen on getting too close to the perimeter as things stood. Everyone could feel the ambience aether charging up, and considering the Sound had drained the star’s aether almost dry, such concentration of life force was quite more evident.

One thing that everyone present agreed on, however, was that they preferred not to think on the reason. First, because it was horrible to think that half their race would die to save the other. And second, because knowing that they would live because others died for them was even worse. Nike, who had been part of the Convocation, was the one who best understood how hard must had been to her former colleagues to choose who lived and who died. Had they not made that choice, all of their people would have offered up their lives without hesitation to save their beloved star. Those who had been left to live now would bear the crushing burden of survivor’s guilt. And for the Convocation it would be harsher than for anyone else.

To Nike, the simple idea had been unbearable. After her defection, she left to search the Sound’s source, she tried to solve the crisis in her own way to prevent the massive sacrifice… but the magnitude of the calamity was far beyond her league. She had fled forward, leaving her fellow Convocation members behind when they should have been most united, searching blindly for a third option, convincing herself that there was one.

But she failed. And in pursuit of that hypothetical third option, she broke the Convocation’s unity. How could the Convocation of Fourteen even function without the Fourteenth?

Suddenly, a tremor shook both heaven and earth. Everyone felt the air vibrating with life’s very energy, and they looked at each other in a mix of awe and uncertainty. That could only mean one thing.

Nike shared a quick glance with Hythlodaeus, and he nodded without a word. They ran to the gates, dispelled the seal, and went outside closely followed by Calypso, Eirene, Hypate and Amphion. When they turned around the corner of the street, the Capitol came into view, and all six of them stopped short in their tracks as they raised their eyes to the skies that still wept stars.

Above the Capitol’s cusp stood an immense hooded figure resembling a man, clad in what looked like a black robe, with long flowing hair woven in silver. Its skin was deep violet and faceted as half-polished crystal. Two huge wings, similar to an inverted heart in shape, grew from a halo at its back. And its red eyes glowed with profound warmth, with the determination and love of a father willing to protect his children. Its very presence and sight made hearts swell with indescribable hope.

The Will of the Star spoke, and the serene voice that echoed in the hearts of men was painfully familiar to Nike.

_I am salvation given form. Zodiark is my name, and a world free of sorrow my Heart’s sole desire._

Before the reverence of all that gazed upon Him, Zodiark spread His arms wide. He stayed like this for a few moments until an extremely powerful surge of pure energy burst forth from Him. Nike instinctively clung to Hythlodaeus’ arm and her friend tried to hold her, but they both lost their balance and fell to the ground, just like the rest. It would have been impossible to remain undaunted witnessing such power. Nike felt how land and skies drank from the tidal wave of life force to stop the grievous infection that was the Terminus, obliterating the monsters in the process and silencing the Sound wherever it still keened.

Nike could not tell how long they lay there, kneeling on the paved street, too dazed to form a coherent thought. She kept gripping Hythlodaeus’ arm, and her friend did not seem keen on parting away either. It was not until they finally felt the energy subside that they dared to look around.

Amaurot was still aflame, myriads of corpses lining every corner of the city. But the Terminus monsters were gone, and the ominous light of the starshower had given way to the comforting darkness of night, like a loving embrace wrapping the agonizing star that had been this close to fade into oblivion.

Zodiark towered against the night sky. He seemed quite tired after all the power He had used to stop the march of the apocalypse, but His voice sounded warm and soothing to the exhausted mankind.

_Rest now, my weary children. After the darkest night, the brightest dawn ever cometh._

Perhaps it was His words that snapped Nike and the others from their reverie. Hythlodaeus gave her a gentle squeeze on the forearm and murmured.

“Let’s go.”

He did not need to say anything else. Nike knew what he meant. Zodiark saved the star… but what had become of His summoners?

The particular fate of one of them was what truly worried Nike and Hythlodaeus.

They rose to their feet almost cautiously, leaning on each other for support. Behind them, Calypso, Eirene, Hypate and Amphion were starting to get their bearings back, but by then Nike and Hythlodaeus had already began marching towards the half-crumbling Capitol. It was not a very long distance to cover from where they were, but it seemed to last an eternity. It was as if all of a sudden the weariness and exhaustion of those last few, calamitous months before the end took their toll. But they were not going to stop now, not until they learned what became of their dear friend.

The square in front of the Capitol was littered with rubble, lit only by the flames that still crackled here and there. There were some lifeless bodies scattered through the ground as well, and Nike did not dare to contemplate that one of them might be him. _‘No, no, no!’_ , she repeated herself mentally as a mantra of sorts. _‘He can’t be gone. I would know. I would’ve felt it. Come on, where are you?! You can’t do this to me. You can’t do this to us!’_

She prayed to whoever would listen. The heavens, the Underworld, the star, even Zodiark. It did not matter. The only thing that mattered to her was that he was safe.

Then Hythlodaeus, whose infinitely sharper aura vision was of great help in this situation, fixed his masked eyes on the Capitol’s entrance’s ruined arches as if he had been struck by lightning. Nike followed his gaze, and her heart skipped a beat.

A robed figure staggered through the ruins, the flames and the rubble, like a lost soul escaped from hell. His black robe was battered and covered in dust, and the half-down hood revealed rather tousled locks of white hair. His red mask had cracked around the left eye, but its color marked him as part of the Convocation of Fourteen.

Not that Nike nor Hythlodaeus needed that detail to know of his identity. That unique, unmistakable violet gradient of his soul belonged to none other but their dear friend.

Emet-Selch, the Angel of Truth.

However, that was not the name on Nike’s lips when she took a couple of tentative steps towards him.

“Hades…”

He seemed to snap out of a nightmare, a particularly horrid one judging by his haunted expression, when he raised his head to her. Behind his cracked mask, the eye that was left visible, golden as sunlight, gleamed in awe when he recognized Nike.

“… Azem?”

She should no longer bear the Fourteenth’s name, but from his mouth it seemed… _right._

The bond had not been broken as she feared. It was still there, strong as ever. Despite everything that had happened, they still were Azem and Emet-Selch. The Wanderer and the Angel of Truth. The Sun and the Twins. Shepherds to the stars in life and death.

The lump in Nike’s throat dissolved into tears of relief, guilt and happiness as she ran to her dearest friend and hugged him as if her life depended on it, and dragged him to the ground with her when her legs faltered, overwhelmed by exhaustion and emotion as she was. Hades took a few moments to react, perhaps because he did not expect such a reaction coming from her, but when he did, he returned the embrace as desperately as a drowning man would cling to a rock amidst a tempestuous sea, holding her against him as if he could lose her any moment.

“You’re back…”, Hades muttered, his voice broken, something Nike had never heard from him before. “I never thought— I believed you wouldn’t—”

“I know”, Nike rested her head on his shoulder, wondering inwardly how she had been able to endure the time away from him for that long. Now she truly understood how deep the bond between Azem and Emet-Selch ran, that which her predecessor had once warned her about. After her defection she had been adrift, a wayward soul lost without a course to follow… but the very moment Emet-Selch was by her side again, she felt she was finally home. Where she belonged.

Not even a minute later, Nike and Hades felt another pair of arms wrap around them. They did not need to look to know that Hythlodaeus had joined the hug, and he did not say anything either. There was nothing to say. The three of them had been inseparable for so long, to the point words were hardly needed between them. They understood each other better than anyone else could aspire to do.

And in that moment, they were reunited in that embrace, comforting each other and taking solace in the others’ presence after the long night of the Final Days. Anyone that might chance their gaze upon them might as well have thought their souls were as one.

On the distant horizon a silver lining began to shine amidst the darkness of night. Soon the dawn would come, and with the new day there would be a wounded world to heal and many difficult decisions to make.

But until the sun rose, under the mantle of night and the silence that precedes the dawn, they could yet be free from the many responsibilities that time had entrusted to them. Three youths that fate once united in that bench of the Bureau of the Secretariat.

They could simply be Nike, Hades and Hythlodaeus.

**Author's Note:**

>  **A/N:** Quick notes on the OC's that were mentioned in this chapter. Merely informative.
> 
> _**Alexios Nycanor**  
>  This young man, despite his clumsiness, earned his place at Akadaemia Anyder for his essays on protection and healing applied to items and conflictive locations, and he was one of Nike, Hades and Hythlodaeus’ classmates. After he graduated, which he did with no small amount of effort, he joined Amaurot’s Wardens as Akadaemia Anyder’s experimental teams’ security chief._
> 
> _**Calypso Myrine**  
>  A polyfacetic student who entered Akadaemia Anyder because of her brilliant grades in many disciplines, in particular magic-related ones. She was one of Nike, Hades and Hythlodaeus’ classmates, and after their graduation she began working in the Bureau of the Architect as creative director and personal assistant to Hythlodaeus when he was promoted to Chief of the institution._
> 
> _**Eirene Laodoce**  
>  An exchange student from overseas who was reccommended to enter Akadaemia Anyder for her work on magiteknology and aetherochemistry, disciplines still to be explored back in the day because they were not completely magic in nature, but magic applied. She was part of Nike, Hades and Hythlodaeus’ class, and when she graduated, Eirene began working in the Bureau of the Architect as creator and safety supervisor._
> 
> _**Hypate Augea**  
>  A brilliant student who earned her place at Akadaemia Anyder for her essays on phantomology applied to healing and magicked wards through the creation of familiars meant to amplify aetherial flow. She was one of Nike, Hades and Hythlodaeus’ classmates, she graduated as one of the best of the promotion and she was granted a place in Anamnesis Anyder as researcher and cataloger of concepts._
> 
> _**Amphion Ireyas**  
>  A young prodigy from northern lands who obtained a reccommendation of his city’s lyceum to study at Akadaemia Anyder, and because of this he traveled to Amaurot. He was one of Nike, Hades and Hythlodaeus’ classmates, and he specialized in magicking wards and aetherial barriers and catalyzing pure aether into vessels. After his graduation, Amphion continued his study of aetherial catalysts in the Words of Lahabrea at Akadaemia Anyder as part of the research team. His essays are believed to be the foundation for imbuing memory in organic crystal vessels that much later, in the sundered world, would play a fundamental role in the Allagan royal technology to clone their scions with the memories of their originals implanted and intact through magicked blood._
> 
> _**Aethra Alitheia**  
>  Daughter of he who at the time held the seat of Emet-Selch in the Convocation of Fourteen and a young woman with great creative abilities, she had no issues being granted a place to study at Akadaemia Anyder. She was one of Nike, Hades and Hythlodaeus’ classmates and focused on sorcery and phantomology, and after she graduated it was not long before she entered the most specialized research team in Anamnesis Anyder. Apparently Aethra might have been romantically involved with her former classmate Hythlodaeus, and it is believed her phantomology research include drafts for the requirements of Zodiark’s great summoning during the Final Days._
> 
> I do not see many pairings with dear Hyth out there, so even though she is an OC, here he has been in a relationship for a long time. Unlike Nike and Hades. Those two still have that to sort out, if they do. (Idiots.)
> 
> Also yes. I chose certain words and lines to stab your feels. Mwa-ha-ha.


End file.
